IMPORTANT NOTE:
This was originally posted on my main account, Tainted Lullaby, but I decided to move it here to save it from deletion. Contact me there if you need anything.
I feel like typing a oneshot right now... Oh, and please note that I do NOT use the technical terms for female or male genitalia; seriously, it just ruins the mood and makes it seem like some troll fic.
Tom x Katrina x Bob
Warning: Rape, subtle forms of torture, and implied trafficking.
Deracinate
I-I've been here so long…My thoughts are becoming mixed up and jumbled, and I honestly don't know how much more of this I can take. It's getting cold; so, so cold around in here. I've lost track of the days years ago, and I haven't seen my companions in so long. The biting cold in this place is maddening, and I want to rip out my eyes right now. If I have to face Him again…I think I'll go insane.
Him. I've always refused to call him by his name; he didn't deserve that kind of respect—whatever kind of respect one could get by calling them by their name. His name? Master. I never did find out what his name was, seeing as I've been forced to call him 'Master' for so long. Yes, Master, no Master…I'm so sick of it! Most of his friends call him 'Tom,' but he's said that that isn't his true name…
I'm among the only females left here, locked in a dark, damp, cold basement for all eternity. That sorry bastard—I hope he dies. I know he fears me, even though I'm much smaller than him. He's seen what I've done with a knife before to one of his 'friends,' if you can call them that.
He leaves me in here all day, my fur stained with blood, torn from fighting and biting, and my private areas torn and bloody. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it! "Why?" I murmur lowly to myself, staring off at the distant brown-black dirt ceiling. My paws, my small black paws, have no claws; they were ripped out when I was first caught.
"Because I love you, Katrina," he purrs lovingly, though I know he doesn't mean it; he never does. My large amber eyes widen dramatically as he stalks up to me, his dark eyes shining brightly in the ebony darkness.
"N-no you don't!" I shout, pressing myself closer to the wall for comfort.
"Say my name, Katrina," he presses on as he walks closer to me. The silence that follows his words is almost deafening, and I want to break down and cry right there.
"No, Tom," I hiss. A shocked look crosses Master's face as he bends down next to me.
"What did you say?" he growls lowly next to my ear, venom tipping his voice.
"I'm s-sorry, Master," I reply timidly.
"Good." His voice is proud and polite as he stands up and brushes himself off. "Bob!" he calls out. Moments later, I watch as another cat—a purple one with lighter splashes on him—appears in the basement, holding a few chains and a lighter. I gasp in fright as I watch Bob approach me, a malicious look spread across his face.
"Tom tells me you've been a bad girl." His dark and sinister voice chills me to the bone as a shiver snakes its way down my spine, branching out at my tail. Both toms approach me with a non-too-friendly look across their muzzles. Bob kneels down in front of me while Tom places his knees on my back, pinning me to the ground.
"Please…" I whisper.
But Master and Bob both ignore me; instead, they both look at each other and grin. Bob gets to work tightening the chains around my paws and pounding them into the wall on five stakes, making sure the chains stay in place. He picks up a stick and lights it on fire, and I can see his evil grin outlined against the firelight. Master presses his full weight against my back and places one paw on the back of my neck and purrs, "Don't you love me?"
I can't find the right words to tell him, so I muffle a small 'yes' and scream in pain as he presses my face into the dirt, mud and grime clogging up my nose and clouding my vision in a wall of brown. Master settles himself on my back and places his paws near my face and brushes his belly fur against my back. I can't do anything to stop him.
Bob takes the stick he lit on fire and places it against my neck. I scream out in pain, my jaws opened wide and a bloodcurdling yowl escaping my throat. Bob takes away the stick and looks at me and says, "I'll be watching, so be a good girl for Tom." He quietly walks away and sits down in a corner far off.
Master watches him leave before dropping against my body again and sinking his teeth into my scruff to hold me still. My paws, held down by chains, are beginning to go numb. I can faintly see Bob in the far off corner, practicing lighting stuff on fire. Master bites down harder on my scruff as I feel him take his tail and circle it around my opening. I shiver and try to tighten up my hindlegs, but he takes one sharp claw and spears me in the side painfully. Gasping, I relax my muscles reluctantly.
I can feel him remove his tail as he enters me, and with a low moan, I squeeze my eyes shut tightly. His spines tear away at my inner walls, and I can't help but yowl out. I couldn't tell if it was from ecstasy or pain, but I didn't like it. I raise up my back and try to wriggle free from his grasp, but he quickly pushes me back down again and starts purring in my ear as he moves his hindlegs. "Come move her tail," he orders Bob.
Bob rushes over to my side and pushes my tail off to the side and then takes his stick and lights it on fire again. "Tell me how this feels, okay?" he says evilly. Master slides out of me painfully, digging his hindpaw's claws into my side like spurs and gets off. Bob takes the stick and pushes it deep into me.
I…I can't even describe the amount of pain I feel right now. Agony, misery, and pain all mixed in one. He pushes the stick in further, and I yowl out painfully as I feel it break any barrier my body could have provided to help me keep my virginity. As he takes the stick out, the thorns that cover it scrape against my inside walls and blood starts to pour out freely, making a dark pool of crimson around me. "Do it again," Master orders Bob firmly.
Bob slips it back in and does the same thing over and over and over again until I start to get lightheaded. My eyes start to fog up, and I faintly hear one of them call out something. It sounds like 'she's bleeding to death!', but I can't be sure. If this is the way to get me out of here, then I'm all for it. Just save me from this pain, this pain that I've endured ever since I was deracinated…
-sigh- I'm just feeling rather dark and angsty today. (By the way, no matter how many times I tell my spellcheck to add 'angsty' to its dictionary, it won't. 0.o)
-Tainted Lullaby
P.S. For those of you who care, deracinate means to misplace or take away from something's natural home or environment.
